The Second Wedding by the Lake
by Darth Nickels
Summary: Post-RotJ AU: Han Solo was more than happy to marry Leia at her mother's private retreat, but he hadn't counted on having her father attend or making small talk with the former Darth Vader.


AN: Many, many, _many _thanks to Jedi Em over on LJ for her endless hours spent slaving over a hot keyboard and my poor syntax.

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Leia had really outdone herself this time. By juggling the preparations for at least five other decoy weddings in addition to single-handedly planning her own, she had ensured that the straightforward ceremony would be private and utterly bereft of holo-reporters. Han was impressed. Other than Lando as his best man and Chewie as his best Wookiee, he'd had few acquaintances that he'd really wanted to be at his wedding. Dash had shown up, of course, but other than that it was mostly close friends of Leia's, a few select dignitaries, and…the bride's family. Luke was smiling and laughing, having left his sagely Jedi mask at home for his sister's wedding. He only paused in his revelry to glance at the back corner and make sure his father was behaving himself.

Han wondered if Anakin Skywalker was aware of the controversy surrounding his presence here, or if he was always this reluctant to leave the cloister of his New Republic headquarters. Either way, he was doing an admirable job of keeping to the shadows, considering there weren't very many on the sun-drenched lawn at Varykino. He'd somehow managed to find a delicate lattice-worked table at the edge of the roped-off party area, and was brooding in the shade of its brightly-colored parasol. Han had been a little leery of his presence and Leia had been downright livid, but Luke had said his father offered the estate where _he_ had been married during the Clone Wars as a potential site and Leia had caved. It was appallingly romantic here, and Han could only wonder why the Dark Lord of the Sith had clung to this little piece of paradise at the height of the Empire.

Well, perhaps he'd find out. With Chewie helping Leia prepare for her nuptials (she'd been very interested in the matrimony customs of Kashyyyk) and Lando using the opportunity to charm his already tipsy rival Senators, Han decided that it was time to man up and actually have a conversation with his soon-to-be father-in-law.

_It's either sit here and brood while watching _him_ brood or sitting next to him in awkward silence. Either one should pass the time until Chewie finishes playing kriffing dress-up._

Han slid into the chair next to Anakin and cordially offered him a shot of brandy. He immediately regretted the decision, as the last person he wanted to get roaring drunk at his wedding was Darth Vader, but Anakin took the glass, clinked it against Han's, and set it down without taking a sip.

"Here's to me, the luckiest man in the galaxy!" Han said, his smile only a little strained, and he downed his shot. He could use a little Corellian bravery-in-a-bottle.

Anakin nodded, but said nothing. His eyes looked a bit unfocused, and he stared off across the lawn.

_Is ignoring me a good sign or a bad sign? I have to ask Luke. This guy is about as legible as the New Republic Bills Leia keeps passing._

"Sure is a nice day for a wedding, you know."

Silence.

"Sunny and all. Does it ever rain here? I mean, I suppose it does, what with all the greenery, but I've never seen a cloudy day the whole time we've been here…" Han was babbling now. Surely Anakin could humor him. He was talking about the _weather_, for Force's sake. Han reached over and knocked back the shot he'd offered his silent companion earlier. No sense in letting it go to waste.

"So…ah…I don't suppose you have any fatherly advice? You know, in-law to in-law? Generations worth of wisdom?"

Anakin just stared blankly at him. Han could have kicked himself. Vader hadn't known he had _two_ children until about eight months ago. He'd only known about Luke a little longer than that.

_Stupid question stupid question how do you live when you are this kriffing STUPID –_

"I do not think you would appreciate any advice, had I any to offer." Anakin said at last, interrupting Han's internal castigation. "My own marriage ended…somewhat abruptly."

_This is what I get for trying to mingle. Kriffing hell, what do I tell Luke when he wants to know why Daddy Skywalker stormed off and-_

"You can stop that now, Solo. Your thoughts are too bleak for today." Anakin sighed, rolling an empty shotglass between his fingers. Han opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed it again.

"My advice to you…listen just as much as you speak. Learn to say 'I am sorry' and 'I forgive you' as easily as you would greet an old friend. And remember…" his voice trailed off. "When you reach troubled times, remember how happy you are right now."

Vader waved his hand. "You seem to be needed."

Han whipped around and saw Leia starting down the aisle and Lando making frantic gestures for Han to haul his cargo up to the front.

"Uh…thanks." Han stammered. "For that and for…what you said. You could…write a databook full of that stuff. Great stuff. Yes."

With that last embarrassing comment, Han tore across the lawn to receive his fiancée and make her his wife.


End file.
